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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411423">Mother Mother</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySheep80/pseuds/SleepySheep80'>SleepySheep80</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Anger, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Biblical Themes (Abrahamic Religions), Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Creepy, Dark, Demons, Disturbing Themes, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Graphic Description, Horror, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury, Insanity, Inspired by Music, Murder, Panic, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Poison, Poisoning, Psychological Horror, References to Depression, Social Anxiety, Song Lyrics, Song fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:20:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySheep80/pseuds/SleepySheep80</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mother Mother is a Canadian indie rock band who I happen to be very fond of. Most, if not all, of their songs are from the perspective of different characters. I had day dreams of what each of these characters would look like and act like and mourned that I am no artist as I'd love to draw my ideas. So I wrote little character descriptions for each one as a little creative exercise. So I hit shuffle on my Mother Mother playlist and wrote these as the songs came up. Each chapter is named after the song that inspired it. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HEED THE TAGS!! If you've listened to Mother Mother you may have an idea of what your getting into, but if not please be aware that most of these deal with mature and disturbing themes. I'll tag each chapter with the appropriate tags. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you can enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ball Cap</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The man in the ball cap.</p><p>!Warnings!<br/>implied non-con<br/>perversion</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A heavy set man in his late 40’s stands hunched over, arms crossed. He’s sporting a big, predatory grin and that’s all of his face you can make out. The top of his face is obscured in black shadows cast by his ball cap. For a moment you see the light catch his eyes and they turn into white beacons amongst the shadows. You have a thought that human eyes shouldn’t do that. He catches you looking and his grin transforms into something more kind. It just unsettles you more.</p><p>“Oh baby baby, I’ll lose my ball cap. Well, only if you, expose your loose fat”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Little Pistol</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The boy with the pistol.</p><p>!Warnings!<br/>blood<br/>gore<br/>implied murder<br/>implied suicide<br/>insanity</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A young man stands across from you. He’s staring right into your soul, his eyes filled to the brim with insanity. He holds a pistol to his head, finger on the trigger. Both of his hands are coated in blood and his white T-shirt is soaked and dripping ichor. It’s not his blood. His blond hair is entirely unkempt, it flies around his boyish face chaotically. His freckles are mixed in with the light splattering of blood across his face. He’d almost look cute, innocent, but…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has a great big grin cutting across his cheeks. He looks proud.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I, well, I want the best for me. And I, well, I think I know just what that means.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Business man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The business man. </p><p>!Warnings!<br/>demons<br/>biblical imagery</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A round, fat man stands there, towering over you. He looks at least 10ft tall, looking down intimidatingly at you. His hair is balding and greying. His arm is thrown out to his side, holding a smoldering cigar. He’s shouting at you in fury, leftover smoke pouring from his lips and nose. He wears a well pressed, striped suit. He looks almost like any other boss if not for the bright red horns atop his head. Behind him stands two shadowy figures. All you can see of them are glowing red eyes and devilish smiles. They have you right where they want you.</p><p>“I’m talking bout the business man, devil with an evil plan, buddy in the stupid pants, kind of old and kind of fat.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Burning Pile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The girl who burns.</p><p>!Warning!<br/>implied depression<br/>self harm <br/>drug use<br/>burning<br/>self hatred</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A young woman stands there, facing the side. She blows smoke from between her lips, originating from a joint she holds lazily to the side. Her black hair is cropped short. She has bags beneath her eyes which are trained downward, watching the source-less fire slowly creep up her legs. You think you catch a glimpse of a bill disappearing into ash once in a while. She watches herself burn with apathy. She takes another hit and smiles. This isn’t a happy smile though, it’s one of self loathing. She continues to slowly burn.</p><p>“All my troubles on a burning pile, all lit up and I start to smile. If I catch fire, then I’ll take my turn, to burn and burn. And burn.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Try To Change</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The man who never changed</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In front of you stands a withered old man, hunched over so far you can see the arc of his back even though he’s facing you. He is putting all his weight on a sturdy, well crafted oak cane that seems to be the only reason he is still standing. His face is wrinkled and his hair is white. He’s covered in liver spots and dry patches. A frown carves a fissure in his face, so deep set you have to assume he wore the frown often in his years. And now: he looks annoyed at you. His eyes shine in anger, but you also see pain. He has a small black and white photo in the hand not gripping tightly to his cane. You can clearly see it is a picture of the old man, only a much younger version. He hasn’t changed at all, he looks exactly the same.</p><p>He brings the photo up to his face to look at, even though his hand shakes terribly. His frown tightens and you see the painful look in his eyes increase. You can only imagine what memories he’s reliving in his head right this moment, but whatever they are, they don’t seem like happy memories. The man looks frustrated at the picture--at himself.</p><p>He really does look the exact same.</p><p>“Try to change, I try to change, I make a list of all the ways to change my ways, but I stay the same, I stay the same.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Oleander</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Flower and the Rain<br/>!Warning!<br/>Domestic abuse<br/>Abuse<br/>Emotional abuse<br/>Physical abuse<br/>Description of injury<br/>Poison<br/>Anger</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You see two people, young adults, one man and one woman. The woman is covered in leaves, vines, and beautiful white flowers. They’re knotted up in her hair and peeking from the strap of her shirt. She is beautiful. She’s screaming at the man, face blood red with anger. There are tears dripping off her chin, and she’s leaking a sickly yellow sap. In her one hand...she holds a chain. The chain leads up to a harsh metal manacle around the man’s neck, which she also yanks around in a feverish out lash.</p><p>The man is covered in bruises and scrapes, no patch of skin left untouched. He has several spots of the yellow sap on his arms and you can see that the skin it touches has become red, inflamed, and blistered. He’s holding a bright red watering can, pouring a gentle stream of water onto the woman. Her flowers bloom brighter under the water. The woman’s hand that’s not holding the chain is holding his wrist in a bruising grip. He can’t pull the watering can away, though he doesn’t look like he’s trying. He’s smiling. Even though the edges of his mouth don’t reach his eyes, which look a little watery to you. She never stops screaming at him. He never stops watering her.</p><p>“I play with fire, I burn you right out. I burned your bible. You try to cry, put on a smile. And if you leave me, rest assured it would kill me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Dread In My Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The boy with the devil.<br/>!Warnings!<br/>biblical imagery<br/>demons<br/>anxiety<br/>panic<br/>implied panic/anxiety attack</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a boy. He looks like he’s in his teens, fairly short and his shoulders are hunched forward, making him look smaller then he is. He’s looking down at his shoes causing his brown hair to fall in front of his face. Despite this you can see that he’s got dark bags under his eyes, and he’s chewing manically at his lip. It’s bleeding. He looks pale, and kind of sweaty. He looks so so tired. He’s wearing an oversized, rough looking hoodie. It’s got frayed edges and holes worn into it. You can see a few loose strings hanging out of the sleeves where his hands barely poke out. One hand grabs tightly to the hoodie around his chest, right over his heart, like he’s having a heart attack. His other hand you can see is fiddling with something. On closer inspection you see a flash of a rubber band. The boy is visibly trembling. He looks terrified. No matter how long you look at him, into his eyes, he refuses to look back at you. He continues to look at the ground and you suddenly feel guilty, like your attention is very much unwanted, so you look away from his face and bring your attention to possibly the most interesting thing about the boy. There's a small, stereotypical looking devil perched on his shoulder. It’s red and has big black horns and a tail. It even has a pitchfork. It’s nearly comical looking. It whispers in his ear, then smirks.</p><p>“There’s a god awful shitty feeling of dread in my heart. Yeah, it’s got a lot to do with haven’t finished what I start. And at any second now I think it all might fall apart.”</p>
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